


Deathless

by grayseeker



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Adventure & Romance, Alternate Universe - Mythology, Ambiguous Happy Ending, Angst and Feels, Bittersweet, Gods, Immortality, Inanna's Descent Into The Underworld (Sumerian Mythology), Inspired by Orpheus and Eurydice (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore), M/M, Magic, Non-Explicit Sex, Pining, Romance, Star-crossed, Supernatural Elements, Underworld Journey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 13,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28180908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grayseeker/pseuds/grayseeker
Summary: When Starscream stole the thread of immortality, he wasn't expecting to end up alone forever. Now that he's lost Skyfire a second time, he'll stop at nothing to get him back—even if that means storming the gates of Death itself.
Relationships: Skyfire/Starscream (Transformers)
Comments: 69
Kudos: 34
Collections: Skystar Secret Santa 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tackytacs](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tackytacs/gifts).



> Written for the 2020 Skystar Secret Santa Exchange. The prompt I chose was: "G1-inspired AU, a take on the Orpheus tale, but with Skystar." It also ended up becoming my personal take on the Immortal Spark trope. I really hope you like it, Tac! Thanks for giving me such an amazing prompt to play with, and thanks for everything you do for our little corner of fandom. Happy Holidays!

Have you considered immortality? Of course. Most of us have thought about it, since no mortal looks forward to their last goodbye. We naturally dream of never having to depart on that final journey.

Mortilus knows this. He does not love his task, but he measures out the final spark-beats of each mortal's life with the utmost care. He considers it a sacred duty, one that was given to him by Primus himself.

Death comes equally to everyone. And although we cannot see this for ourselves, Mortilus knows it is a blessing that we do not live forever.

Listen.

.oOo.

On the day Mortilus came for Starscream, he found him huddled on the brink of what had recently been a chasm. A mountainside had collapsed, filling the gap with snow and ice and burying the Seeker's companion a mile deep.

For days, the Seeker had been digging. His own body, mangled by the avalanche, had eventually failed. It now lay in a heap behind him, half covered in newly fallen snow as the Seeker continued to dig with spirit-hands, clawing and cursing at the ice.

Mortilus watched, saying nothing. When the appointed moment came, he reached into the unseen tapestry of life and pulled out a single, glittering thread. It was a short thread, for the Seeker was still young, but it shone bright as starlight against Mortilus' palm.

"Ulchtar," he said as he readied his blade.

That name, in the old Vosian tongue, meant _crying for the stars._ In modern translation, it would be _Starscream._ Mortilus thought it a name well-suited to the life he was preparing to end. A life which had been spent exploring the galaxy with a single, trusted companion.

A beloved companion.

This was a kindness, Mortilus told himself as he counted the final pulsations of that young, guttering spark. It marked an end to suffering. Yet as he watched the Seeker, something happened which had never happened before.

Mortilus missed a beat. He lost count. The dying spark beat its last, and then… beat again. Mortilus made haste to cut the thread, but he was already too late. 

A sharp cry sliced through the wind. "No!" Starscream lunged at him, still in spirit form. "You can't have him!" He seized the thread from Mortilus' hand. Mortilus tried to snatch it back, but his hesitation had been his undoing. His fingers passed through it like mist. 

They stared at each other, Mortilus wondering how things had gone so terribly wrong and Starscream with a look of dawning realization. Starscream pressed the thread to his own spark, and just like that, the tapestry changed. Destiny rewove itself, and Mortilus vanished from the snowy plain. He was not there to see the lights of a passing freighter shining down through the clouds. 

The freighter's pilot had received a distress signal and had come to offer aid. In the old version of the tapestry, he would have found a dead body and a faint life-pulse coming from far below the ice. He would have excavated the Seeker’s companion, who would have thanked him for the rescue, then descended into a spiral of endless grief.

As it was, the pilot did not notice the signal from beneath the ice. He found the unconscious Seeker, placed him in a stasis-pod within his ship, and carried him far across the galaxy until he eventually found a medical station equipped to care for Cybertronians.

The medics swore it was a miracle. The Seeker should never have survived; not his injuries, nor the stasis that had followed. Of course they knew better, being people of science, but some could not help whispering among themselves that it was almost as if the Seeker had become… immortal.

.oOo.

Mortilus did not speak of the incident, to anyone. In particular, he did not mention it to Primus. He did not wish the Creator of All Things to know that he'd failed in his duty. As time went on, however, Mortilus began to relax. The tapestry of life continued weaving itself as if nothing had changed, and perhaps nothing had. What difference, after all, could a single dropped thread make?

It came as a terrible shock when Primus summoned Mortilus into his presence and pointed to that very thread. "There is, on Cybertron, a mortal who cannot die," he said. "No matter how often he is cut down in battle, he rises. His subjects are calling him the Deathless One; the Immortal Spark; the Tyrant of the Firmament. Do you know anything about this?"

Mortilus was forced to admit that he did. Once he'd explained, Primus frowned. That was an unfamiliar expression on the Light-Giver's normally placid features, and it made Mortilus uneasy.

"This Deathless One, this… Ulchtar, has taken over Cybertron. His power has grown unchecked, thanks to his inability to die, and he is now spreading his empire to other worlds." Primus paused, his mouth curling downward as if he was tasting something sour. "I've been getting complaints."

"Complaints?" Mortilus was really uncomfortable now. "Complaints from _whom?"_

"Those other worlds have their own gods," Primus explained. "Those gods are not pleased that one of our own has slipped the fate of mortals and is wreaking havoc on their worlds. This has upset the balance, and it must be restored."

"I… yes." Mortilus gazed at the floor. "I can see how that would be a problem."

Primus placed a hand on Mortilus' shoulder. "Old friend, you must fix this," he said. "I don't care how." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Mortilus comes up with a plan.

Mortilus pondered, watching from afar as the Seeker who was now called the Deathless One cut a swathe of terror across the galaxy. 

Primus had spoken the truth. This Ulchtar could not die. When he fell in battle, he rose. When he was captured by his enemies, tortured and put to death, he rose. When one of his own subjects tried to assassinate him… he rose.

And yet at no point did he seem truly _alive._ Not the way he had on that icy plain, where he'd stood naked of his body and glared at Mortilus, daring him to take what he held dear. 

The bright, clear flame of his spark had dimmed to a sullen ember. He courted death, but could not find it. In that, Mortilus thought he'd found his answer.

It took only the slightest rearrangement of fate, and an unexpected ion storm, which diverted the path of the Deathless One's star destroyer, to bring him back within range of that ice-world. Back to the place where it had all begun.

.oOo.

"There is a Cybertronian signal coming from this planet," Soundwave observed, pointing to a faint blip on one of his star-charts.

"It’s nothing," Starscream replied without glancing up.

"It is a distress signal."

"So what? I've got problems of my own."

Starscream did, too. He was faced with not one, but _two_ uprisings, and because they were on opposite sides of the galaxy, he only had the resources to properly crush one. He'd have to have to negotiate with the other, and the very thought of it was giving him a helm-ache. Running an interplanetary empire was unexpectedly taxing on one’s mental energy.

"It is a distress signal from _you,"_ Soundwave persisted.

"What?" Starscream set down his datapad. "From _me?_ What are you talking about?"

Though of course, he already knew. It had to be his distress beacon, from so long ago. How was it still functioning? A bitter taste rose at the back of his throat as he asked, "Is there anything… else? Any other signal?"

Soundwave gave him an odd look. "There is," he said. "A very faint one. It is almost like a life-pulse, but—"

"Take us there!" Starscream ordered, already on his feet. "And prep the sickbay. I want a full surgical team standing by."

.oOo.

Soundwave half-watched the rescue. He looked on with parental concern as his own symbiote, Rumble, cracked the ice using his pile-drivers. But once the Constructicons descended into the resulting fissure to finish the excavation, Soundwave shifted his attention to his leader.

Starscream was beside himself. There was no other way to describe it. He was pacing at the edge of the crevice, hands fidgeting nervously as he barked orders at the mechs below. In all the time Soundwave had known Starscream, he'd never seen him react this way to anything.

And that… was interesting. What could possibly be this important?

As Soundwave watched, a movement from within the crevice brought Starscream to its very edge. "Be careful, you oafs!" he snapped, glaring at the Constructicons as they emerged carrying an anti-grav sled. On it was a pale, motionless figure.

"Is he alive?" Starscream demanded.

"He is badly damaged," the chief medic replied, more than a little stiffly, "but yes. He's alive."

"He'd better stay that way," Starscream growled. It was a threat and a warning, both, and everyone knew it. 

Later, as the medics labored over their new charge, Soundwave glided to his leader’s side. "Who is he?" he asked in a low voice. "Why are you so concerned about him?"

"His name is Skyfire," Starscream responded, his gaze never wavering from the silent figure. "He and I were explorers before the war. We studied uncharted planets, including this ice-world. We were caught by an avalanche. He pushed me to safety, but—" Starscream broke off, his hands clenching into fists. "Not _that,_ you fools!" he snarled, striding forward. "Give him fifty thousand volts to activate his memory monitor!"

The medics traded uneasy glances. "Commander," the chief medic said, "I do not advise—"

"Just do it!"

The medic sighed. "As you command."

He administered the charge, but the figure did not respond.

"Again!" Starscream ordered, shouldering his way through the crowd to stand by the stranger's head. "This time, a million volts!"

Soundwave was no medic, but even he knew that was a risky move. It could fry the unknown mech's cyber-motor relays, or even more delicate components, but Starscream appeared desperate. Soundwave studied Starscream, watching the play of expressions on his features as wreaths of crackling energy enveloped the motionless body.

At first, it seemed to have made no difference at all. The body remained still an inert. Utterly silent. The chief medic bowed his helm, as if preparing for the worst.

"Regrettably," he began, "I do not believe that—"

A quiver passed up the length of the stranger's frame. "Star… scream," he said, in a voice that sounded rough from disuse. "You have… rescued me."

Starscream let out a tiny, gasping sound that was nearly a sob. "Skyfire!" He sprang onto the berth, heedless of his astonished audience, and threw his arms around the stranger's neck.

Soundwave stared for a long moment, then quietly slipped from the room. This was most unexpected, and yet… and yet. Could it be the sign for which he'd waited so patiently all these years? A crack in the Deathless One's armor? A chance, at long last, to avenge Megatron?

For it was clear that Starscream would do anything for this stranger. Perhaps even die. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Starscream reunites with Skyfire.

And so it came to pass that, thanks to a slight alteration of fate, Starscream the Deathless was reunited with his beloved companion. At first it seemed like a dream come true.

Starscream ordered his ship, the _Wraith,_ back to Cybertron. Throughout the seven-day journey home, he fell asleep each night curled against Skyfire's side, and woke each morning to his lazy smiles, his deep kisses, and his tender murmurings of Starscream's name.

During the day, Starscream smiled more often. Things that would normally infuriate him became minor inconveniences. Jokes told by his crew became funny, his food tasted better, and the beat of music spilling from the rec room's doorway made him want to dance rather than throw things. 

Even the stars were different. As he lay tangled with Skyfire one night, gazing through the viewport that dominated one wall of his private quarters, Starscream couldn't help noticing how much brighter they seemed. How intense their colors had become. And how much darker spaces between stars now appeared, as if the vista of night had regained its mystery.

"The stars look exactly the same," Skyfire murmured, the exact opposite of his thought. He was gazing at them too. "It's as if no time has passed."

"But it has," Starscream replied. This seemed important for some reason. "Much time has passed."

"I know." Skyfire offered him a melancholy smile. "Yet you have not aged a day. It's hard for me to accept that I was in the ice for as long as everyone says."

"When we get to Cybertron, you will see how much has changed," Starscream replied. "For one thing, the planet is ours now."

"I've read about that," Skyfire said. "I've read about the wars, and about how you eventually united Cybertron and brought peace."

"Yes," Starscream replied. "Well." He fell silent after that, gazing at the stars. The histories Skyfire had been given to read weren't exactly filled with lies, but they weren't exactly truthful, either. They omitted certain… details. Details which Starscream would mention in good time, of course, but… not just yet.

Certainly not now, when Skyfire was gazing at him with such pride. The truth could wait.

.oOo.

Much fanfare heralded their arrival on Cybertron. There was a procession through the streets of Vos, followed by feasting, dancing and endless fireworks.

"All of this is for you?" Skyfire asked with bemusement as they stood on a private balcony, gazing down over the sea of revelers. "Your people must love you a great deal."

"They do," Starscream replied. That was true enough, he reasoned, at least here within the confines of the capital. Outside of Vos, things were more… complicated. But luckily Vos was a city of spires, rising high into the sky, and all unpleasantness was far below them right now. 

"This celebration isn't just for me," Starscream added, hoping to steer the conversation. "It is also for you. They are happy that we're together again." What Starscream meant was that _he_ was happy, but as far as he was concerned, that amounted to the same thing. 

Skyfire smiled. It was one of those smiles that made Starscream melt inside. When their hands met, he leaned against Skyfire in utter contentment. But this lasted only for a moment.

"Who are _those_ people?" Skyfire asked, his voice suddenly tense. He was pointing to a group of mechs at the outermost edge of the crowd. "They look… _angry,"_ Skyfire said. "I should go and talk to them."

"Skyfire—wait!"

But Skyfire had already leaped from the balcony and was winging his way over the heads of the crowd. Starscream could do nothing but follow. As he drew near, his worst fears were confirmed. The intruders were Autobots. Grounders. They were carrying signs and shouting, and Primus only knew how they'd gotten all the way up here. 

Starscream’s security forces were closing in, but not fast enough. He frantically motioned for them to hurry, but Skyfire had already reached the rag-tag group and was leading them toward the banquet hall. Of all places.

"They're hungry," Skyfire explained, as Starscream alighted beside him. "They say they're from a part of Cybertron where there is little light, and nothing to eat. We should help them."

"Y-yes, yes, of course!" Starscream replied, glaring at the Autobots. "They should feel free to make themselves right at home."

The Autobots proceeded to do just that. They were filthy, starving and—worst of all—disloyal, but Skyfire treated them like honored guests. Starscream had no choice but to play along. 

He noticed Skyfire sending him little smiles throughout the evening, though, and he began to relax. He began to forget that he was sharing a table with a group of enemies, and by the end of the night, they were all laughing and exchanging stories like old friends. 

That hadn't been so bad, Starscream told himself once their guests had left. It was just the one night, and Skyfire seemed so happy. Happy with _him,_ as if he had no idea that the Autobots were living in filth and squalor because of Starscream's policies. 

But the following day, Skyfire announced that he wished to visit the lightless region where the Autobots lived.

"But…! That's dangerous!" Starscream protested.

"All the more reason to go," Skyfire countered. "If there are Cybertronian citizens who are not prospering, then surely we should bring them aid."

"But—"

"And besides," Skyfire added, flashing Starscream that grin that always made his spark flip, "we're explorers! Where’s your sense of adventure?"

Starscream had no answer for that, and thus chastened, he accompanied Skyfire into the dark world below the city. 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Soundwave makes his move.

In the world below the city, Skyfire and Starscream found poverty. They found deprivation, and even terrible diseases. As they continued to explore, Skyfire looked increasingly sorrowful.

"We must help these people," he said.

Starscream couldn't see why. Before the war, the ones who called themselves Autobots had kept _him,_ and other fliers, in similar straits. It seemed only fair that the tables were now turned, but the look on Skyfire's face said otherwise.

"Oh, fine," he muttered, and sent an emissary to contact the Autobot leader. By day's end, they were sitting with him at _his_ table, and hammering out the beginnings of a treaty. Skyfire was pleased.

"I wonder if there are other citizens in need of assistance?" he mused, studying a map of Starscream's growing empire. "Perhaps we should visit these worlds too, and see how they're doing."

Starscream slumped into a chair. "I suppose," he said, wondering how he'd explain the uprisings. Perhaps it would be better if he didn't crush either one? 

Perhaps he could negotiate with both. It would be twice as tedious as negotiating with only one would have been, but it would certainly save on resources. And anyway, he liked the way Skyfire was looking at him. As if he saw something no one else did. 

And so, that became their next project. Soon enough, Starscream had secured a treaty with each of the rebellious worlds, and had even managed to prevent a third uprising. Not through force, but by offering assistance before force was needed. This, too, saved a great expenditure, and it made Skyfire smile even more.

"I want to hold a celebration," Starscream told Skyfire one night as they sat perched atop one of the Vosian spires. "I want there to be dancing, and feasting, and for all our friends to be there. I want…" he paused, gazing down into the now-thriving world below the city. "I want us to be bonded."

When Skyfire did not immediately reply, Starscream slid a nervous glance in his direction. Skyfire wasn't smiling. He looked… worried.

"Believe me," Skyfire said quietly, "I want that too. More than anything." Starscream knew that, because before the ice, Skyfire had asked him the very same question. "But I must ask," Skyfire continued, "are you sure? For once our sparks are joined, there will be no secrets between us."

No… secrets. Right. Starscream gulped. That was, after all, the reason why he'd said no in the time before the ice. He hadn't been ready to share his entire spark with another person. Even then, he'd thought he had too many secrets. But _now?_

Somehow, in the whirlwind of interplanetary negotiations and peace treaties and general good-doing, he'd forgotten who he was. What kind of _ruler_ he'd become. That he was hailed as a tyrant for good reason. And that he was called the Deathless One for good reason, too.

On some level, he'd started to believe that he _was_ the person Skyfire seemed to see whenever he looked at him. He'd forgotten that he _had_ secrets. But now, if he was to have the life he now dreamed of having, he would have to reveal them all. Would Skyfire still want him, once he knew?

"I…" Starscream hesitated, fingers tightening on the ledge where he was sitting. If he wanted this, he was going to have to take a leap into the unknown. "Perhaps I could tell you some of my secrets," he offered. "Then you can tell me if you still want to bond."

"I would love to know you as fully as I can," Skyfire replied. "But there is no need to rush. Tell me only what you feel ready to share."

"Maybe I'll start with something small," Starscream decided. He realized he was shaking. 

Skyfire's hand enfolded his. "Take your time," he said. "There's no hurry."

Starscream cleared his vocalizer, readying himself to speak—and was interrupted by urgent footsteps. Soundwave was hastening toward them.

"Come quickly," he said. "There is a situation."

.oOo.

Soundwave had been watching Starscream. He'd been waiting, planning patiently, and the time was now right. Even so, he couldn't suppress a flicker of apprehension as he led Starscream and his new companion toward the now-empty main square, where celebrations were usually held.

Starscream seemed not to suspect a thing. His companion might have, if his full attention hadn't been on Starscream. Soundwave had been watching the companion, too, and had concluded that he was not nearly so naive as he let on. Soon enough, that wouldn't matter. 

But if Starscream suspected a thing, he would be without mercy. Soundwave feared for his symbiotes more than for himself, but he'd made a promise to Megatron, and he intended to keep it no matter the cost.

.oOo.

"What situation?" Starscream snapped, glancing around in annoyance. "I don't see anything."

"There was a breach in the security grid," Soundwave replied. "A group of life-forms entered the city. They were coming this way."

"Well, I don't see any of them now," Starscream replied. "Double the security patrols, and tell them to be on the lookout. If there's anything sneaking around the city, we'll find it before—"

"My lord," Soundwave interrupted. He was pointing toward the banquet hall. Starscream turned, and stared in astonishment as a group of filthy, rust-eaten Autobots shambled towards them.

They were holograms, but Starscream, of course, had no way of knowing that. It was how Soundwave had gotten them inside the city without raising any alarms. But though they were not real, the explosive charge beneath the pavement very much was. 

The holograms were a distraction, meant to keep Starscream from noticing the slightly uneven pavement. Skyfire _had_ noticed, however. He leaped forward, shouting Starscream's name as Starscream charged toward the oncoming intruders.

Starscream did not hear him. He was rushing forward, weapons raised and ready. When his foot landed on the uneven section of pavement, it triggered the leader of the holograms to raise his arm and throw a holographic bomb. 

Skyfire reached Starscream and seized his arm—just as Soundwave had been sure he would—and the pavement beneath their feet detonated with a boom that rocked the city to its very foundations. Everything went white.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the worst happens.

Starscream was back in the snowstorm. Like always. Wind drove against his frame, and snow blasted his sensors, turning his visual field mostly white. From somewhere high above, he heard an ominous rumble that he knew, by now, was the sound of an avalanche.

"Skyfire!"

The wind tore the word from his throat, but he kept stumbling forward. Somewhere ahead, there was a light. As he drew closer, he found that it did not have any one particular source. The air itself, and the swirling snowflakes, seemed to glow with their own inner light.

"I'm here," said a voice. It was a white, winged figure, twice Starscream's height. He was at the brink of a chasm, his hand extended. "Come with me," he said. "Hurry."

Starscream stumbled forward, reaching for the outstretched hand—and was yanked firmly backward. The light, the snow, the winged figure all dissolved into a howling darkness. He slammed into his body so hard that for a moment, he didn't know what had hit him.

He was on his back. His chest quaked, body arching as his fuel pump restarted. It pumped dry and painful for the first few beats before energon began to sluice through his lines. His first ventilation was a shuddering cough, the movement rattling the bits of his chest that were still torn thanks to…

The explosion!

Starscream jerked upright, making the world around him spin. Everything was a kaleidoscope of fire and stars and running figures. People were shouting, security staff swarming everywhere. Someone caught his arm.

"Easy there," said the voice of his chief medic. "Give yourself a moment to recover. You've still got a hole in your chest."

Starscream didn't glance down. He didn't have to. He could feel the hole filling in. Struts, fuel lines, circuitry and armor were all weaving together, self-generating as if from nowhere. 

He didn't know how it worked. He'd run experiments, but had never come up with an explanation that made any sense. Matter simply didn't arise out of nowhere, yet his body persisted in defying the laws of physics. 

Right now, he didn't care. He simply waited until the regeneration process was complete enough for him to move. He then scrambled up, waving off the hands reaching to help him, and glanced around. He was still in the main square, but it was barely recognizable. Most of the pavement was gone, replaced by a deep, smoking crater.

"Skyfire!" he shouted. Where was Skyfire? He'd been right there, beside Starscream. He'd been…

Starscream's gaze fell upon a tarp-covered shape on the far side of the square. His spark stuttered. He took a step toward it, then another, and then he was running. Someone tried to stop him. He shouldered roughly past, seized the edges of the tarp in both hands, and… looked.

Merciful darkness rose to claim him, and for several days, he knew nothing else.

.oOo.

Soundwave knocked. He always did. A polite, measured rapping of his knuckles against the door of his leader's private chambers. "My lord," he began, in his usual monotone. "The priest sends word—"

"I know," came a voice from within. "Tell him to slag off."

Soundwave cleared his vocalizer. "He says time is of the essence now. If the Rite of Crossing is not performed in a timely manner, the spirit of your… _companion…_ could be trapped between worlds, unable to find its way—"

"I am familiar with the local superstitions."

'Local superstitions' was Starscream's term for Vosian religious beliefs. He made no secret of his disbelief in Primus or the other gods, and seemed to consider all religions equally suspect. 

Soundwave weighed his next words. This was the crucial part of his plan, and he had to play it exactly right. He took a step into the room. Starscream was sitting beside the berth, his back to the door.

"Query," Soundwave said. "Have you considered the potential for resurrection?"

That got a reaction. Starscream straightened from his slump, his wings rising in a manner that suggested his temper was rising as well. "Oh yes, of course. Why _ever_ didn't I think of that myself?"

Soundwave took a few steps closer. He had to admit, the figure on the berth did not seem a likely candidate for resurrection, but Starscream had regenerated from worse states than this, and he knew it.

"Suggestion: Retrieve companion's spark."

Starscream spun his chair around. _"Retrieve?_ As in cross over myself, grab it, and bring it back?"

"Affirmative."

Starscream stared at Soundwave, optics narrow. He looked furious, but Soundwave had known him long enough to distinguish true anger from a habitual defense reaction.

"If you actually think that's possible, you're even crazier than those muttering priests."

Soundwave did not, in fact, believe it was possible. But that didn't matter. All he needed was for Starscream to entertain the notion.

"Deep within the undercity," he intoned, "there is a workshop belonging to one Solus Prime. It is said that she possesses a talisman that allows her to cross the bridge between this world and the next without having to die." 

"That's ridiculous!" Starscream retorted. As ridiculous as… well, Primus."

To any other mech, Starscream might have sounded convincing. But Soundwave had detected the sub-glyphs beneath his words, and the near-imperceptible quaver in his tone. He inclined his head in a stiff nod, knowing he didn't have to say anything more.

"I will pass your message on to the priests." Soundwave left the room, smiling behind his mask. Soon, he thought. Very soon. He was no mystic, but he knew enough of the afterlife and its workings to be certain that once Starscream _truly_ crossed over, he would not be able to cross back.

Megatron would be avenged. 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Solus Prime receives an unwelcome visitor.

Solus Prime hadn't gotten a visitor in more than five thousand galactic cycles. She was perfectly fine with this, and would have been pleased to go another five, or perhaps even ten galactic cycles without interacting with another living Cybertronian. Alas, this was not to be.

The day in question found her busy at her forge. That was no surprise. Solus Prime was nearly _always_ busy at her forge. On this particular day, she was making lepidopterons: delicate, winged creations of sparkling filigree. She had already completed a fair number, which were now perched on the ceiling above her forge, fanning their cooling wings in the gentle updraft of the bellows.

Once the flock was complete, Solus Prime intended to release them in a wilderness area where they would balance the ecology and, perhaps, bring wonder to anyone who caught a glimpse of them. Making them was not easy, however. It required rigorous temperature control and a precise rhythm and sequence of hammer-strokes to bring the creatures to life.

She had reached the most delicate part of the operation when a series of loud, sharp knocks rang through her workshop, shattering her concentration. "Solus Prime!" a grating voice called out. "Open your door! I wish to speak with you."

Solus Prime cursed under her breath. She'd nearly missed a stroke. "Go away!" she snarled. "Leave me to work in peace!"

"It is I, Starscream," the voice insisted, its owner clearly under the impression that this should mean something to her.

"How very nice for you," Solus Prime retorted, still hammering, "though I am not sure why I should care who you are." 

Strike, strike, tap-strike, tap… she was nearly done. The filigree wings stirred, glowing soft orange in the dimness of her workshop.

 _"The_ Starscream," the voice persisted. "Winglord of Vos, ruler of—"

"This might surprise you," she cut in dryly, "but I don't exactly follow politics."

The voice fell silent. Solus could tell that her visitor hadn't left, but she was fine to let him stand there as long as he wasn't interrupting her work. Tap-strike, strike-tap, tap-tap, and… the creature came to life in a rush. It rose from the anvil, wings testing the air. Solus Prime holstered her hammer and watched as her newest creation soared up to join its fellows on the ceiling.

"Please," the voice said, much more quietly. "There's someone I need to speak with. Someone who's…" the voice caught, its edges roughening, "…dead."

There was a note of desolation in that last word, and it cut through Solus Prime's annoyance like a heated blade through snow. Her hand rose, unbidden, to cradle the talisman she wore about her neck. Turning from her forge, she crossed to the door.

Her visitor was a Seeker. He was nothing like the ancient Seekers, the ones Solus Prime had forged on her own anvil so very long ago, but he was clearly one of their modern descendants. Which was probably why she felt an instinctive ache for the pain he was desperately trying to hide. It radiated from him, darkening his presence.

"Come in," she said quietly, stepping aside so he could cross the threshold. 

He edged through the door, glancing around warily. She saw his optics widen at the fluttering carpet of filigree wings that covered the ceiling, and even more so at the hammer that hung at her hip. Clearly, he was intimidated. She could not blame him, considering the hammer was as large as his entire body, and so she sank down cross-legged, bringing herself more to his level.

"So, The Starscream," she said. "You wish an audience with the dead?"

The Seeker tore his gaze from the hammer. "I… it's just Starscream," he corrected. "And yes. I wish to speak with my—" He broke off again, his gaze falling to the flagstones at his feet. "Someone I care about. His name's Skyfire. I've heard you can do that."

"Speak to the dead?"

"Cross over without dying," he said. His gaze had risen to the talisman. Solus Prime wondered if he'd recognized it, though the majority of her attention was now on a different matter entirely.

"Pardon my asking, Just Starscream, but are you the Deathless?"

The Seeker tensed, optics narrowing. "What makes you ask?"

"I cannot help noticing that you have possession of your own life-thread."

"That's… that's nonsense," he snapped, though his hand rose in a telltale gesture to cover the panel that hid his spark. 

"I can see right through that," Solus Prime said with a smile. "I do not intentionally pry, but your energetic field is as visible to me as your physical form, and I am well aware of the scandal."

The Seeker dropped his hand. "What scandal?"

"The scandal involving a life-thread snatched from the hand of Mortilus himself, and of a Seeker who cannot die."

Her guest made a sour face. "I thought that was a dream. The… the thread-thing."

"No, that was real. It is the reason why you cannot die and, I'm guessing, the reason you cannot be reunited with your…" she paused. "Your Skyfire."

"Can you help me?"

Solus Prime considered the question, and finally shook her head. "I am afraid I cannot."

"Why?"

"Because your intentions are not simply to _speak_ with the dead. You intend to bring him back. And that is not allowed."

"I—!" The Seeker's wings flared indignantly. "I do not! I just need to talk to him. That's all."

"No." Solus Prime rose, hands smoothing her cascading metal apron. "What you plan on doing would violate the compact between life and death. Once someone has crossed, they cannot return." She paused, a sorrowful smile touching her lips. "If it were possible to bring back the dead, do you not think I would have done so myself?"

Without realizing it, her hand had once again risen to touch the talisman—and that was apparently the cue the Seeker had been waiting for. He sprang at her throat and wrenched the talisman from its chain. Its weight seemed to take him momentarily off guard, but he wasted no time in opening his spark chamber and pressing the device to his spark. 

The talisman vanished, and—before Solus could gather herself to utter a counterspell—so did he. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Starscream invades the land of the dead.

And so it came to pass that Starscream the Deathless, by using the talisman which he'd stolen from Solus Prime, was able to cross into the world of the dead without having to die. He was promptly back in the snowstorm.

"Not _here_ again," he hissed, pulling his cloak tightly around himself to fend off the wind. He could see the sourceless light up ahead and trudged toward it, his feet sinking knee-deep in the snow. Would Skyfire be waiting for him in the light?

A message, marked _Book of the Dead,_ appeared on his HUD. [Negative,] it informed him. [Resident Skyfire has fully crossed over. To find him, you must do likewise.]

Starscream stared at the message. Well. At least _that_ was working, much to his surprise.

Before setting off to find Solus Prime's workshop, Starscream had visited a priest. But not just any priest. Certainly, he'd stayed far away from the priests at the temple palace, who kept insisting that Skyfire's body should be smelted without delay. Instead, he'd gone to the one priest he trusted: his brother, Sunstorm.

Sunstorm had been surprised, and more than a little upset, to find his irreligious sibling standing outside his door with a dead body. He'd seen reason once Starscream had transferred a hefty donation into the temple coffers, and had reluctantly agreed to guard Skyfire's body while Starscream was away.

"Where are you going?" he'd asked, as Starscream had turned for the door. "When can I expect you back?"

Donation or not, he hadn't seemed quite at ease being left alone with a corpse. Starscream had declined to respond. Instead, his gaze had fallen on Sunstorm's bookshelf. 

"Is that thing for real?" he'd asked, pointing at a copy of _The Cybertronian Book of the Dead._

"Why don't you upload a copy and see for yourself?" Sunstorm had challenged. 

"Fine then! I will," Starscream had replied, grabbing the volume from the shelf. He'd done it mostly to throw his self-righteous sibling off-guard. But now, standing here in the swirling snow, he had to admit that the book appeared to be what the priests claimed: a functioning guide to the afterlife.

"How do I do this crossing-over thing?" he asked the book. 

[Move toward the Light,] the readout advised.

Starscream snorted. Wasn't that what the priests always said, too? Not that it had ever worked for him. He always got yanked back to his body before he could reach the light. But this time, as he stepped toward the softly-glowing patch of air, it coalesced into a circular portal.

"I suppose I have to go through this thing?"

[Fear not,] the Book replied, sounding far too much like his brother. [Step through the portal, and all will be well.]

"So says you." Starscream edged a toe-cap toward the circle of light. It tingled where his foot made contact with it, but the sensation was not unpleasant. Still, it looked one Pit of a lot like a hungry mouth waiting to swallow him up. [There's no other way to find Skyfire?]

[Negative. Resident Skyfire has fully—]

"Yes, yes, fine. I'm stepping through."

Starscream stepped through, and found himself in a tunnel. A completely ordinary tunnel. Dust-drifts covered the floor, and rust-bugs scuttled into cracks in the wall when he deployed his lights.

 _"This_ is the afterlife?" Starscream asked, disbelieving. In every respect, the tunnel looked just like the ones he'd been slogging through for the past few days.

[Affirmative. Specifically, this is _your_ afterlife.]

Starscream curled his lip. "Good to know."

He edged forward, and felt a familiar tug on his spark. Not this again? Glancing back he saw, for the first time, the silver thread that extended behind him and disappeared through the portal. Starscream plucked at it experimentally, and found that his fingers slipped right through. 

"Interesting," Starscream murmured, noting how the thread paid out behind him as he moved. This had to be the life-thread which Solus Prime had mentioned. Here, it was a lifeline. One that he and Skyfire could use to find their way back to the living world. 

Suddenly the readout on his HUD flashed with a new message:

[TALISMAN DETECTED: EXTENSION LOADING, PLEASE WAIT.]

A status bar marked _Talisman_ appeared. [You appear to have entered the realm of the dead using a talismanic extension which enables you to exist here without dying,] the Book explained, with what Starscream could have sworn was a note of disapproval. [Over time, the talisman will lose its charge. Once it reaches zero, you will be returned to the living world.]

"Wonderful," Starscream muttered. "How long do I have?"

[Calculating now. Your talismanic charge is at ninety-eight percent.]

"That sounds… good?"

[Ninety-seven percent,] the Book promptly announced.

"Frag." 

Starscream set off at the quickest pace he could manage. The tunnel descended, getting darker, narrower and more twisty. Before long, he had to bend over double, his wings folded behind him so that they wouldn't scrape the walls. To make matters worse, a fog was gathering. It soon became so thick that he was forced to navigate by touch, since his radar didn't seem to be operational.

Eventually, his foot splashed into water. He drew back with a grunt of surprise. "Where am I?"

As if in answer to his question, the fog parted with a sudden, decisive movement that was more like a curtain being pulled aside than any natural weather phenomenon. Starscream was standing at the brink of an underground lake.

[Congratulations,] the Book said. [You have arrived at Lake Atramentous. You must now wait here.]

"I don't have time to wait! I'm on a deadline!" The talismanic status bar had continued to edge downward throughout his journey, and was now hovering at ninety-two percent.

[You must wait.]

"Why? What _for?"_

[You must wait.]

Starscream cursed, pacing along the shoreline, which stretched away into darkness on either side of him. Wisps of darkness fluttered, like mist, above the inky water. Every now and then something huge and scaly would rise from the depths, seize one of the misty shapes and drag it, screaming, beneath the waves.

"I guess flying isn't such a good plan," Starscream muttered, watching with dismay as this happened close enough to where he was standing that he was able to glimpse the scaly lake-dweller's teeth, which were tusk-like and as long as Starscream's own body.

[You must wait,] the Book repeated. [Talismanic charge: ninety percent.]

"What _for?"_ Starscream asked, edging as far from the water as the cavern walls would allow.

[You must—]

"Shut up!"

The Book fell silent.

Starscream waited. And waited, watching anxiously as the talismanic status bar slipped below ninety percent. How much farther would he have to go in order to find Skyfire, and how much charge would he have left by the time he got there?

He was on the verge of trying to fly across when he heard the creak of oars. Something was coming toward him from across the dark water. As it drew closer, he saw that it was a boat. It was the kind that had once transported vacationers across the Rust Sea, but the gaunt, gray mech who stood at its helm was a far cry from the jovial pilots of long ago.

[The ferry arrives,] the Book announced, unnecessarily. [Its nameless pilot will transport you to the far side, if you are willing to relinquish what he asks.]

"What does that even _mean?"_ Starscream demanded as the ferry came to a stop, its prow bumping lightly against the shore. The pilot stared at him—or seemed to, though his optics were covered in an opaque silver sheen like that which sometimes veiled the optics of the dead.

"Staaarrr… scream," the pilot said, in a voice that rattled with corrosion and decay. He lifted a rust-eaten hand, pointing at Starscream's head. "In exchange for passage, I require… your crown." 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Starscream haggles for his crown.

"My crown?" 

Starscream's hands rose to his head. He could have sworn he hadn't been wearing it. In fact, he distinctly recalled having locked it away in his quarters before setting out on his quest, but… there it was, on top of his head. 

"Why should I give it to you?"

"Payment… is required," the ferry pilot croaked. 

"Yes, but I have other forms of payment," Starscream said quickly. "I have access to the Cybertronian treasury. I could transfer funds into your account. How much do you need?"

"The crown," the pilot insisted.

Somewhere far across the dark lake there was a distant scream, followed by a splash. Starscream shuddered. He took off the crown and gazed at it for a moment before setting it in the ferry pilot's outstretched hand.

"This is your rulership," the pilot said, gazing at the crown with dead, glassy optics. "Are you now willing to see it clearly?"

"Look, I _paid!"_ Starscream said impatiently. "Just take me to the other side already!"

"Are you willing?" the pilot repeated.

[Talismanic charge at eighty-seven percent,] the Book of the Dead chimed in.

"Fine! I'm willing to see it clearly, whatever that means. Can we just—"

Starscream never finished the sentence, because at that moment he was thrown into a vortex of images. They hurtled past and through and all around him, surrounding him in a maelstrom of sound, image and emotion. 

He recognized them all. They were images from his life, but seen from an unfamiliar perspective. From the perspective of those who had been affected by his actions. The people he'd hurt. The people he'd killed, or had killed, and the people he'd betrayed.

"No!" he whimpered, but there was no stopping it. Within an instant, he lived all their lives, died all their deaths, experienced all their hurts. And still, the images kept coming. Starscream reeled under the impact, found himself falling… and landed in a heap on the far shore.

The ferry was pulling away, heading back the way they'd come with the crown perched at a lopsided angle atop the pilot's head. Starscream averted his gaze, suddenly wanting to never see that crown again. Not now, knowing what it represented to so many.

"And to think I'd planned on wearing it when I bonded with Skyfire." The idea sickened him. How had it seemed so natural before?

He picked himself up, dusting shore-dirt from his knees, and glanced around. This side of the lake looked very much like the other side had. A narrow strip of shore flanked the steep cavern wall, into which a tunnel opening was set. 

As Starscream stepped closer to the tunnel, he noticed a breeze coming from within. It had a faintly sweet, resinous scent, like tree sap. Did this tunnel lead above ground?

[Negative,] the Book said, replying to the question he hadn't asked. [The tunnel leads to the next test.]

"Test?"

[All who enter this realm must face judgment.]

"Even if they're not _dead?"_ Starscream wondered if Solus Prime had to go through this every time she visited. Then again, she was a Prime, and probably had some sort of magical immunity from moral judgments.

[Your talismanic charge is at sixty-five percent,] the Book told him, pointedly.

"What?" Starscream glanced at the status bar, and realized it was true. "I lost twenty-two percent, just crossing the lake?" 

[Judgments can be taxing,] the Book replied. [Particularly if there is a backlog of karmic excess to be dealt with.]

"Karmic excess? You don't say," Starscream muttered as he hurried toward the tunnel. To his relief he found that this tunnel, unlike its predecessor, was tall enough for him to walk upright. The floor was carpeted in fine sand which muffled his steps as he strode along, heading toward a faintly glowing smudge of greenish light.

The light grew brighter as he walked toward it, and the path suddenly emerged into a forest. He was still inside a cavern, as far as he could tell. The tree trunks spanned from floor to ceiling, more like pillars than the natural, living trees they otherwise appeared to be. The ground was covered in a thick layer of moss except for the path, which wound its way between gnarled roots so massive that Starscream felt dwarfed by comparison.

"What is this place?" he asked.

[You have reached the Forest of Forgetfulness,] the Book replied.

"Any special instructions?" Starscream asked, remembering how he'd been told to wait when he'd reached the lake.

[Keep going. You'll see.]

That didn't sound good, but Starscream was glad he didn't have to waste time standing around, since the status bar now hovered at just above sixty-three percent. As he continued to walk, however, he found his body growing stiff. Each step seemed to take more effort than the last, and before long, he could barely move.

"What's going on?"

The Book didn't respond. When he glanced down, however, he discovered that his shining purple cloak had become tangled around his legs. Well, that explained a few things. 

He reached down to untangle himself, but the cloak, seemingly with a mind of its own, wrapped itself around his hand and bound it to his side. Starscream tried to yank it free, but the cloak only bound itself more tightly around his body. 

The more he struggled, the more entangled he became, until he couldn't even stand up anymore. He toppled over and lay in the sand, faintly twitching. That was when he noticed that the fibrous substance stretching between the trees above him was not moss, as he'd originally thought. It was a web. And the creature which had created that web was directly above him, watching him with its eight scarlet optics. 


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Starscream encounters a giant spider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: This chapter includes a giant spider, and though she isn't as scary as she appears, her presence might still be disturbing for some.

It was the largest arachnotron Starscream had ever seen. Each segment of its eight multi-jointed legs was as thick as a tree-trunk, and each leg was tipped with a long serrated blade that gleamed wickedly in the sourceless green light that suffused the forest.

He struggled in vain as the creature lowered itself toward him, descending on a rope-like strand of web. The bladed legs sank deep in the sandy soil as it loomed above him, and it lowered its terrifying head to observe him more closely. 

"Starscream," it said. Its voice, which flowed directly into Starscream's mind, was shockingly melodious. "It seems you have become entangled."

"What an astute observation," Starscream shot back, still fighting to free himself. The more he struggled, the tighter the cloak seemed to wrap itself around him. A bladed leg rose from the sand. He tried to roll away as it lowered itself toward him, but the gleaming tip merely tapped the surface of the cloak—which rang with a hard, metallic sound, as if the cloak had forged itself into a second set of armor. A very _inconvenient_ set. "What do you want from me?" Starscream demanded.

Eight perfectly round optics observed him impassively from above a gleaming set of razor mandibles. "I want nothing from you except your freedom," the melodious voice replied. 

"Great! Then let me go!"

"I am afraid only you can do that."

"I don't… understand," Starscream replied, grunting with the effort of trying to move, or even speak. The cloak was clamping down on him with improbable strength. Was he about to be crushed?

"These are your defenses," the creature said, its bladed foot once again tapping lightly against the outer mantle of his cocoon. "Only you can relinquish them."

 _"Defenses?"_ Starscream's cloak was made of steel-silk, a lightweight textile that had no military value whatsoever.

"It is your web of fabrications," the creature said. "It is your excuses and your lies, especially the ones you tell yourself. Are you ready to see them clearly?"

"Not _this_ again," Starscream rasped, fighting for breath.

[Talismanic charge at fifty percent], the Book put in smoothly.

"Yes, all right, fine! Show me my excuses already, so I can get out of here!"

The gigantic spider stepped to one side, once more granting him a clear view of the cavern ceiling. As he gazed at it, he wondered if it was a ceiling at all. It seemed to be all web, as tightly woven as his cloak. 

As he gazed at it, the strands began to vibrate with sounds that became words. They became glyphs, and speech, and thoughts, and all of them were his own. The pressure on his body was the weight of every lie, every half-truth, every manipulation of fact. 

He'd always congratulated himself on his ability to deceive others, but had never realized, until now, how he trapped himself with his own manipulations. The patterns on the ceiling resolved into an image of himself sitting atop one of the spires of Vos, gazing out across the city.

Beside him, Skyfire was asking him about his secrets. "I would love to know you as fully as I can, but there is no need to rush."

But oh, he thought with a pang, there _had_ been. Every reason to hurry up and drop all his defenses. If he'd only known that was going to be their last conversation, his final opportunity to open up. To risk everything, and perhaps be loved for who he was, rather than anything he'd ever pretended to be.

"Would you have done so, had you known?" the melodic voice gently asked.

Starscream realized he'd curled into a fetal position, lying on his side with a wing beneath him and his arms wrapped around his head. His face was wet and streaked with sand. A touch, like gossamer, wafted over him. 

Glancing up, he realized that he was being held by eight thick, segmented legs, and the spider's mandibles, covered in metallic fur, were lightly stroking him. It should have provoked terror. Revulsion, at the very least. Instead, he found himself relaxing. 

"Thank you for the cloak," the spider murmured within his mind. "I have added its strands to my web. They are quite beautiful, I think."

They were. The silvery web that stretched between the trees was now shot through with strands of rich purple.

"Are you ready to move on?" the gentle voice asked.

Starscream glanced at the status bar. [Talismanic charge at thirty-two percent.] Frag.

"I'd better," he said, and wondered at his reluctance to leave. Perhaps it was the novelty of being seen. Truly seen. Those eight fathomless optics seemed to gaze right into him, yet he felt no impulse to hide. 

Would he be able to do the same with Skyfire? Withstand scrutiny without fear? There was only one way to find out.

The powerful legs uncurled, lowering him gently to the forest floor. When his feet touched the sand, they sank through as the ground, the forest, and the cavern itself dissolved into mist.

Again, that should have been alarming. It wasn't. He was falling, or perhaps flying through the mist, and he felt lighter than he'd felt in, well… ever. Without his crown or his excuses to protect, it felt as if there was nothing left to fear.

When his feet finally touched something solid, Starscream found himself standing before a gate. It was forged out of weapons. There were laser rifles—thousands of them—along with more exotic devices such as vibro blades, acid pellets, maces, clubs and the broken, deactivated hilts of energon swords.

A shield, surrounded by a decorative ring of rusty throwing stars, had been welded to the center of the gate. On it were the faction symbols for both the Autobots and the Decepticons, and these too were crumbling with decay. 

"What is this?" he asked softly.

[Congratulations], the Book replied. [You have reached the gate which leads to the City of the Dead.] 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's left comments and kudos! Sorry I'm a bit behind answering, but you'll all get replies from me tomorrow. Hope you're continuing to enjoy the story. <3


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Starscream reaches the City of the Dead.

_"This_ is the City of the Dead?" 

[This is not the city,] the Book clarified. [This is merely the gate which leads to it.]

"And this is where I'm going to find Skyfire?"

[This is where you will find all who have crossed.]

Starscream walked around the gate, studying it from all angles. It was just a gate. There was no wall, or buildings, or landing pads, or even a road leading to or from the gate in either direction. It was just a gate, standing by itself in the midst of a dark void.

"Is this a trick?" he finally asked.

The Book offered no response.

Starscream huffed. He circled back around to stand before the gate, gazing at the two rusting faction symbols. There were no hinges, no handles, no sign of a control panel, nor any other obvious means of opening the gate. He gave it a shove, and was not surprised when it didn't budge.

"What do I have to do to get inside?" he asked, half expecting the Book to tell him to wait.

[Knock,] it replied instead. [Knock, and petition the gatekeeper for entrance.]

"Oh." It should have been obvious, but for some reason it hadn't occurred to him. He tapped his fist to the center of the shield. "Hello? Gatekeeper? Anybody there?"

A crack appeared at the center of the gate, splitting it down the middle. The two halves slid apart, revealing… _oh._ It was the main square of his own palace, in Vos. It was decorated as if for a celebration, with crystal garlands, shimmering light-globes, and colorful banners that flapped lazily on the breeze.

He couldn't see anyone around, but he could hear music and voices floating from somewhere just out of sight. A familiar laugh caught his attention. 

"Skyfire?"

He hurried forward, but the door, bristling with weapons, slammed shut in his face. "Who goes there?" a gravelly voice asked. 

Starscream froze. "M… Megatron?"

The door shifted, the weapons it was made of bending and twisting like tree roots until they became a face Starscream recognized all too easily. 

"W… what are you doing here?" he asked, shrinking back without quite intending to.

The face's lips stretched in a sardonic smile. "Now that," it replied, "is a stupid question."

Starscream supposed it was. If Megatron was here, it was because of _him._ Because of Starscream's betrayal. And if Megatron was the gatekeeper to the afterlife, there was no way—absolutely none—that Starscream was going to get through.

"What do you want from me?"

"Another stupid question," the face replied. "Have you learned nothing from your journey thus far?"

Starscream narrowed his optics, staring at the face. There was something _about_ it. Something almost— 

[Talismanic charge at thirty percent], the Book announced.

"Shut up!" 

Starscream locked gazes with the coldly smiling features. What _had_ he learned from his journey thus far? If he'd learned anything at all, it was that none of these tests were what they'd appeared to be on first glance. And also, at the previous two, he'd been asked to sacrifice something of personal importance.

And without thinking any further on the matter, he found himself reaching for his weapons. "I know what you want," he said as he removed first one, then the other of his null-ray rifles. He laid them on the ground in front of the door.

"That's a start," the face said.

"I'm not done!" And Starscream proceeded to empty his frame, and his subspace, of anything that could be viewed as a weapon. He laid each on top of his rifles, until there was a small but deadly pile in front of the door.

"Better," the face said. "What else do you have?"

"Nothing."

The face was silent.

"No, come on! I've given you all my weapons! What else could you possibly want?"

"You're a fool, Starscream, if you ever believed it was about the weapons."

Starscream stared at the granite features, trying not to notice that the status bar was sliding down toward twenty-nine percent. _Think,_ he told himself. If this wasn't about the weapons, what _was_ it about?

His gaze fell upon the decomposing Autobot and Decepticon insignias, which now adorned each side of 'Megatron's' face. Of course. It never _had_ been about the weapons. It had always been about the mentality that gave rise to them.

"I relinquish war," Starscream said, reaching for the insignias on each of his wings. He peeled them off and set them, on atop the other, on the pile of weapons. 

The door slid open. As Starscream stepped through, he was distantly aware of the Book announcing that his talismanic charge was at fifteen percent. He barely had time to think about that, though, as he was instantly swept up in a crowd of people.

His Trine were the first to greet him, throwing their arms around him and hugging him close. He would like to have told himself he was annoyed by this, but he was too busy hugging them back. It had been so very long since he'd had the company of his two wingmates.

Starscream's creators were next, and their creators before them, and then comrades he'd lost during the war, and colleagues he'd known from before the war, and playmates he'd grown up with as a sparkling. The whirlwind of reunions should have been overwhelming, but instead, it felt like coming home.

"It's almost like a bonding ceremony," Starscream observed to one of his Trine. He'd noticed how everyone was decked in capes of glittering steel-silk and crowned with wreaths of crystalline flowers, and how the music incorporated melodies that were only used on matrimonial occasions.

"It _is_ a bonding ceremony," his Trinemate said with a laugh.

"Whose?" Starscream glanced around, but didn't see anyone in bridal attire. With a wistful ache, he remembered the night atop the spire, when he'd told Skyfire he wanted to bond. And where was Skyfire? Why hadn't _he_ come out to greet Starscream? Was he angry?

"C'mon," one of his Trine said, and they each took hold of one of his hands and led him toward the banquet hall. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which lovers reunite.

The banquet hall was resplendent. Its walls were hung with rich tapestries and the tables overflowed with delicious things to eat. The air was filled with soft music and the murmur of quiet conversation. Those voices stilled as Starscream entered, flanked by his Trinemates, and every single guest rose. 

Starscream was instantly aware of two things. First, he was a mess. He was scratched and dusty from crawling through tunnels and wrestling his cloak, while each of these guests was clad in even more stately attire than the guests outside. And second, they all looked like Skyfire.

As his Trinemates led him through the crowd, introducing him, he quickly realized why. They were Skyfire's relatives, going back several generations. They all seemed delighted to meet him, though Starscream couldn't help remembering how little thought he'd given to the fate of Skyfire's family. 

Why had that been? It made no sense to him now. It was as if something in him had stopped caring once he'd realized he couldn't die. Was _that_ why Skyfire was angry? Was that why he hadn't shown his face yet?

"Stop fretting," one of his Trine scolded. "No one's mad. Get your aft over this way."

They were pulling him toward the far end of the room, where a tent had been set up. A _bonding_ tent. It was draped in colorful textiles and illuminated with softly glowing orb-lanterns.

"I can't go in there," Starscream protested. The very last thing he wanted was to walk in on a couple, or a trine, in the midst of bonding. That was the worst violation of privacy he could imagine.

His Trinemates laughed. "Silly," one of them chided. "You _still_ don't know who's in there?"

"How _would_ I know?"

"Seriously? You said you wanted this."

"I did?"

They propelled him toward the tent with a good-natured shove. "If you've made it this far, I'm pretty sure you can figure out the rest on your own," one of them called over his shoulder as they turned away.

Starscream shot a glare at their backs as they melted into the crowd, laughing. He turned back to the tent, studying the glyphs on the door. They were Vosian and Altihexian, both, and they spelled out typical blessings, such as fertility, and long life, and eternal love. All the things he'd wanted to give Skyfire. And now…

There was a rustle of movement from within the tent. Starscream took a hasty backward step, not wishing to be caught lurking outside someone else's bonding tent, but he was too late. A large hand reached through one of the curtains and drew it aside, and he was suddenly gazing up, way up, at a warm, familiar smile, and a gaze so blue you could drown in it, and—

"Oh, Sky!"

Starscream didn't notice, or particularly care, that his voice had become an undignified squeak. Later, when he thought back on this moment, he'd wonder how it was that they'd closed the distance between them. He'd never remember which of them had moved first, but he would never forget being swept up in Skyfire's arms, or how he tasted when their mouths sealed together in a breathless kiss.

In that moment, it didn't occur to him to wonder if Skyfire was angry. If he was, they would talk about it. They had all the time in the universe to resolve any barriers that remained between them. But right now, nothing mattered except their kiss. 

Nothing mattered except Skyfire's arms locked around his waist. Nothing mattered except drowning in Skyfire's scent, and chasing the sweetness of his mouth, and the comforting thrum of his engines. Starscream sighed in delight as Skyfire lowered him to a whisper-soft berth and stretched out beside him.

"You look just the same," Starscream whispered, his fingers tracing the slant of Skyfire's jaw, the curve of his lips, the thick cables that framed his throat. He found a pulse-point, undeniable proof of life, and pressed his mouth to it. "I'm sorry, Sky. I should have protected you."

"It wasn't your fault," Skyfire replied. He was engaged in a similar exploration, nuzzling Starscream's cheeks and brow, and trailing his lips along the curve of his neck. "What's done is done, but you're here now. That's what matters." 

They were alone. The sounds from the banquet hall had faded, with only the music remaining. It formed a harmonious counterpoint to the sounds they made as they moved together, bodies seamlessly entwined. 

So much was said, though Starscream remembered few words passing between them. But when Skyfire opened for him, bathing him in the soft blue radiance of his spark, he understood what was being offered.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

Skyfire, who was above him now, smiled. "I am sure, if you are."

His powerful arms were braced on either side of Starscream's head, his wings and body covering him. Had it been someone else, Starscream would have felt trapped. With Skyfire, he felt naked, and free. 

He opened his spark in return, and then they were falling into each other. All his darkest places flooded with light, his secrets spilling out as he became transparent to Skyfire, and Skyfire to him. 

For so long he'd yearned for this, but also feared it. Now that it was happening, now that he was letting himself be seen without pride, defenses or deception, he was beyond fear. 

He was… they were… eternal.

Immortal.

There was nothing to be afraid of, and never had been. There was no room for anything but love. 


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Starscream makes a fateful decision.

[Talismanic charge at zero percent.]

The voice brought Starscream to instant wakefulness, and he sat up with a jolt. "Skyfire!" He caught Skyfire's arms and shook them. "Wake up, wake up!"

Skyfire opened his optics and gave him a sleepy, confused smile. "What is it, love?"

"We have to leave! Right now!"

Skyfire sat up on the berth. "Where are we going?"

They had fallen asleep tangled together in the warm, crumpled sheets, sharing dreams through the lingering connection of their newly-forged bond. Skyfire offered no resistance as Starscream seized his hand and dragged him to the door. 

"We have to leave," Starscream repeated, silently cursing himself. The Book had warned that once the talisman's charge ran out, he'd be returned to the living world. Why hadn't he paid closer attention? 

He yanked the curtain aside, and came face to face with a towering, cloaked figure. A figure whom he instantly recognized from that terrible night long ago; the night he'd lost Skyfire for the first time.

"Who _are_ you?" he croaked.

"I think you already know," the figure replied, his voice as soft and implacable as falling snow. He was standing alone. There was no sign of the guests, or the banquet hall, or Starscream's palace. They were standing in the midst of a star-filled void. "Like you, I am known by many names," the figure continued, "but you may call me Mortilus." 

Starscream began to shake. He couldn't help it. Without his crown, cape or weapons, he was defenseless. He gripped Skyfire's hand more tightly, locking their fingers together as if by doing so, he could prevent the inevitable. Skyfire edged closer to him in turn, slipping his free arm around him from behind. 

Mortilus gazed at them for a long moment, and sighed. He glanced down at his hands, which held… 

"No!" Starscream's spark froze in horrified recognition. It was the silver thread. _His_ thread. "Give that back, it's mine!"

Mortilus shook his head. "I fear I cannot. I must return it to where it belongs." He lifted his cupped hands, and the thread uncoiled, rising of its own accord like a wisp of smoke. It was swiftly joined by other threads, in other colors. 

They wove in and around each other, forming a sort of web. A tapestry, though one so incredibly large that its pattern could not be discerned. It vanished as soon as it had appeared, taking the silver thread with it.

Mortilus studied his handiwork, then smiled. It was a sad smile. "Ulchtar," he said, gazing at Starscream. "You are no longer Deathless. But the tapestry has received your thread, which means that if you choose to return to the living world, there is a place for you."

Skyfire squeezed Starscream's hand, and a pulse of pure gladness traveled through the bond. 

"So we can go back?"

Mortilus bowed his head. _"You_ can go back. But Skyfire has fully crossed over, and cannot return. To do so would violate the compact between life and death."

"No…" Starscream pressed back against Skyfire, gripping his hand. "Please! You can't take him from me! Not again."

Mortilus folded his hands over his chest, his expression sorrowful. "My task does not bring me joy," he said quietly. "But I can tell you, Ulchtar, that it was your life I came to claim that night long ago. Not Skyfire's. It was due to my own error that you gained a form of immortality. I would make it up to you, if I could, but I am only Death."

Starscream was only half listening. Mortilus' words were slipping past him like a river, but in all of it, there seemed to be one solid rock that he could hang on to. "You said… if I _choose_ to return."

"Yes. If you choose."

"And if I choose not to?"

Mortilus closed his optics. The tapestry reappeared, swirling around him in a slow-moving vortex of color. "If you choose not to, the pattern of life will be altered. I cannot predict the future, but I can tell you that there will be war. The one who thought to displace you will not be able to steer the future; Cybertron and the empire you have built will be left leaderless, and chaos will soon follow."

"The one who thought to… displace me," Starscream echoed. He had to think but for a moment to realize who that must be. Who had come running to warn him of the 'situation' which had led to Skyfire's death? And who had told him of the talisman which granted access to the underworld? 

"Soundwave," he hissed. Dark rage unfurled in his chest as he imagined, simultaneously, the thousand deaths he intended to inflict on his treacherous second-in-command.

A presence nudged him through the bond. "Starscream."

Starscream glanced up to meet Skyfire's gaze. _"What?"_ he demanded.

"Soundwave has children."

"And I'm supposed to care about that?"

"I care."

"He _killed_ you!"

"And you killed Megatron."

Starscream opened his mouth to retort, then closed it again. Skyfire was right, and even if he hadn't been, Starscream wouldn't have been able to go against his wishes.

"I'll leave you two a moment to decide," Mortilus said. He offered a slight bow, and was gone in a swirl of his dark cloak.

Left alone, Starscream and Skyfire exchanged glances. Without a word, they returned to the tent and sat down on the berth where, just a short time earlier, they had given themselves to one another.

"You've seen everything," Starscream said. "Everything I've done."

It had seemed easier during the heat of their bonding, when they had been caught up together in the light of their own eternal natures. Now they were simply a pair of mortals, and the realization that Skyfire knew all his secrets, such as the fact that he'd killed Megatron, was daunting.

One large hand cupped both of Starscream's, while another hand gently raised his chin. "What you have done… is done," Skyfire said quietly. "It's past and over, and cannot be changed."

"But… I can change the future," Starscream replied, finishing Skyfire's thought. He already knew what his decision would have to be. They both did. "I want to finish what we started," he said, each word costing him. "But I don't know how long it will take. Or…" he clenched his fists beneath Skyfire's broad palm, "how long I have."

The hand on his chin moved to cradle the back of his neck, gentle pressure urging him closer. "I'll be here," Skyfire whispered. "When the time comes, I'll be waiting."

Their lips met in what they both knew would be their final kiss in a very long time. 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Starscream returns home.

When Starscream rose from the dead for the very last time, he was not at all surprised to find a Prime bending over him.

"I can explain!" he said quickly, sitting up on the pallet of metallic, fur-like material which Solus Prime apparently used as a bed. He didn't get far. Not because Solus Prime had done anything to stop him, but because his body was so stiff and sore. He ached everywhere, and when he tried to stand, he had to grip the wall for support. 

"What's wrong with me?" he asked, glaring at her. "What did you _do?"_

"Nothing," Solus Prime replied, studying him with interest. "But perhaps you should look in a mirror."

She provided one from subspace. Starscream took one look at himself and recoiled. "What—! But I look so… so…"

"Old?" Solus Prime seemed faintly amused. "It happens to all of us, you know. Even to Primes."

"But… I wasn't old before," Starscream said, staring at his reflection in horror. "Why am I old now?"

"I'd imagine it's because you are no longer in possession of your life-thread," Solus Prime said. "Your body has probably advanced to the physical age you would have been had you not become Deathless. And since we're on the topic of stolen items, I'll just take this back, too." 

She darted a giant hand toward his chest. Starscream tried to flinch away, but wasn't able to move as fast as he once had. Solus Prime plucked something from the vicinity of his spark. At first it looked like a steely blur, but then it solidified to become the talisman.

"Charge at zero percent," she observed with a wry smirk, and dropped the talisman into a vat of bubbling liquid. "I hope you learned something on your journey, The Starscream."

"I…" Starscream trailed off, staring at her. "Why haven't you tried to kill me?"

Solus Prime laughed. It was a loud, booming sound that rattled the shelves of her workshop. "I have never killed anyone, and certainly have no plans to start with you. Especially not after what Mortilus has told me. He follows politics more closely than I. Part of his job, I'd imagine."

When Starscream continued to gape at her, baffled, Solus Prime rose, smoothing her heavy apron with a practiced sweep of her large hands. "Come," she said, striding for the door. "You have a funeral to attend, and there's only one way you can get there on time."

"Funeral?" Starscream hobbled after her. "Whose funeral?"

"Yours, obviously." Solus Prime opened the door and stepped through, letting out a low, whooping 'chirrup' as if she was calling to someone.

A loud rumble shook the floor, rattling the shelves once again. Starscream stumbled to the door, glanced out, and immediately wished he hadn't.

Something was emerging from one of the tunnels. Something that was all mouth. Well, mostly mouth. The circular maw was rotating blades, and the worm-like body filled the entire tunnel.

Starscream cowered back, watching in terror as the monster careened toward them. It rushed toward Solus Prime. She held her ground, and when the thing reached her, she… embraced it.

Threw her arms around the creature's seething jaws and hugged it as if it was an old friend. Its tentacles wrapped around her in turn, and they spoke to one another in a strange, chittering language that consisted mostly of clicks and whirs.

"What… is _that?"_ Starscream demanded, lowering the rifle that he'd instinctively raised. His guns were back. They were right on his shoulders where they were supposed to be, though he doubted they'd have done him much good against this monstrosity.

Solus Prime threw him a grin. "This is Driller," she said, patting the creature's snout as if it was a pet cybercat. "He's agreed to take you to the surface, and help settle any… differences of opinion… about who should be in charge."

.oOo.

Picture, if you will, a funeral procession. It winds its way through the streets of a darkened capital, solemn in its grim purpose. No one flies. No one sings. No one speaks. 

The only sound is the heavy tread of footsteps as the procession files through the gates of a spire palace and into a main square draped in somber grays befitting the occasion. A dirge floats in the still air as a solitary, masked figure mounts the podium.

Soundwave faces the crowd, waiting until every optic is upon him. This is it, he thinks. He has been practicing his eulogy since the fall of Megatron, which was a very long time ago, and he knows each word by spark.

"Fellow Cybertronians," he begins.

He gets no farther, for just then, the ground shakes. A murmur runs through the crowd. Soundwave raises his arms, motioning for calm, but no one is paying attention. 

"Ground-quake!" someone shouts, and the crowd scatters to the far edges of the square as pavement, recently repaired, begins to buckle. A crack appears, and then something bursts through.

Something long, metallic, sinuous, and purely horrible. Soundwave has never seen its like before. He hopes never to again. It rears against the stars, its bladed jaws whirring, then dives toward him.

He raises his hand to cover his chest. Not to protect his own spark, but in a vain instinct to protect his symbiotes—his children—who are housed behind his chest-plate. 

But the monster does not devour him. Instead, the terrible snout lowers itself to his level, and he sees, for the first time, the figure who stands atop the monster's head.

"Starscream?" He gapes. "Is that… _you?"_

It _is_ Starscream. Soundwave is quite sure of that, but he looks different. Older, yes, but it's more than that. He looks… revitalized. As if he has found something he did not have before. A purpose. Something for which to live.

"Here's a hint," Starscream replies, raising one of his guns. Soundwave braces for the blast, which he fully expects will take him in the spark. Instead the hand keeps rising, and a single finger points toward the stars. 

"This is the only chance I'm going to give you," Starscream said. "And by the way, it's not my idea. You owe your life to Skyfire, the mech you murdered. Never forget, and never return. Ever. Is that clear?"

.oOo.

Soundwave wasted no time in departing Cybertron, and Starscream wasted no time in making good on his promises to Skyfire. Cybertron thrived under his rule; the other worlds he'd conquered regained their independence, though most remained allies.

Starscream's empire became a federation, and in time, he selected an heir from among the best and brightest of Cybertron's younger generation. Throughout his reign, he was rumored to have one of the original Thirteen Primes as his personal adviser, and sometimes during the night, he could be heard speaking with someone who did not reply in words that anyone was able to hear.

One day, his quarters were found empty. The only clue to his disappearance was a note left on his desk which said that he'd gone home, and would not be returning. What that meant, no one could be sure. 

Some speculated that he had died. Others believed that he had once again crossed over using magical means, and would indeed return if his help was required. Many have found comfort in this idea, though it has yet to be proved one way or the other.

All we can say for sure is that Mortilus goes about his work as diligently as always. He measures out the spark-beats of each mortal's life with the utmost care, knowing that his task is a sacred duty. 

And perhaps it is less of a burden to him now, knowing that he does not simply separate mortals from the ones they love. He also reunites them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Many thanks to [Biting_Moopie](http://archiveofourown.org/users/biting_moopie/pseuds/biting_moopie) for her excellent beta help, and to [Dark Star of Chaos](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkDecepticon/pseuds/Dark%20Star%20Of%20Chaos) and [OverlordRaax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OverlordRaax/pseuds/OverlordRaax) for additional comments and feedback along the way.


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